


too strong to be denied

by blackkat



Series: useless porn scraps [35]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, Harem jokes, Hokage Hatake Kakashi, Implied Kisame/Zabuza/Kakashi, Implied Utakata/Zabuza/Mangetsu, M/M, Mizukage Utakata, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: There's a low chuckle from behind them, and the bedsprings creak as Kakashi sprawls out, half-reclined as he watches them with heavy-lidded eyes. “You know,” he says easily, “of all the perks I expected as Hokage, this definitely wasn’t one of them.”“Threesomes with other Kages?” Utakata asks, dragging his fingers up Zabuza’s spread thighs, and those golden eyes don’t waver from Zabuza’s, intent and hot even if he sounds like he’s just making polite conversation.Kakashi chuckles. “I meant access to your own personal harem,” he says lightly. “But that too.”





	too strong to be denied

“I win,” Utakata says, smiling that pretty smile that never fails to get Zabuza hot under the collar. He lays his cards face-up on the table to prove it, like Zabuza didn’t know he was beaten the minute he drew his hand. Like Zabuza hasn’t been squirming across from him for twenty minutes now while Utakata drew out his victory, vicious as any Kiri nin could hope in their Mizukage.

“Fuck” Zabuza says disgustedly, because he can play this game, too. He tosses his own cards down, then leans back on his hands and gives Utakata a narrow look. That was a _particularly_ bad round for him, and he’s suspicious of it, but they're also shinobi; if he didn’t catch Utakata cheating outright, it’s as good as winning fair and square.

Utakata hums, sweetly innocent, and asks, “Are you going to be a sore loser, Zabuza?”

Fingers close over Zabuza’s shoulders, stroke down his chest. Kakashi kisses him behind the ear, tweaks his nipples and makes him gasp, and says over the sound, “Well, he’s certainly going to be _sore_.”

He’s hard, naked cock a hot line pressed up against Zabuza’s back, and Zabuza’s next breath is ragged. It takes effort not to lean back into the touch, or press up into the sharp-hot sparks as Kakashi scrapes his nails over his pecs. “Fucker,” he says, and it’s a victory when he manages to sound like he means it.

“Be nice, Zabuza,” Utakata says, and tips his head, considering Zabuza with those pretty golden eyes. Zabuza doesn’t trust that look as far as he can _spit_ , but before he say so Kakashi hooks his fingers into the rings through Zabuza’s nipples and tugs sharply, and Zabuza loses the words on a breathless cry. He jerks, the pain-bright pleasure entirely unexpected after a night of slow-building flirting, and grits his teeth to strangle another sound as Kakashi kisses the pulse in his throat. Deft thumbs roll his nipples, tug and release, and Zabuza can't help a jagged groan, or the shudder that races down his spine as Kakashi’s cock smears precum across his back.

“Better,” Utakata says, and when Zabuza manages to open his eyes the bastard is _smirking_. Just a little, but Zabuza can see it. When he sees Zabuza looking at him, Utakata pats his thigh, and says, “Come sit on my lap, Zabuza.”

It’s an order with no room for argument, even if Zabuza _did_ want to argue. Swallowing, he pushes away from Kakashi, shudders when the bastard gets one last pinch in before he goes, and crawls across the bed towards his Mizukage. Utakata holds out a hand—always a fucking gentleman, shit, even when he’s got Zabuza naked on his knees in front of him—and when Zabuza takes it Utakata pulls him up, in, even as he leans back against the headboard. Zabuza settles across his thighs, sinks down and feels Utakata’s cock slide back between his legs, up the crack of his ass, and shivers.

There's a low chuckle from behind them, and the bedsprings creak as Kakashi sprawls out, half-reclined as he watches them with heavy-lidded eyes. “You know,” he says easily, “of all the perks I expected as Hokage, this definitely wasn’t one of them.”

“Threesomes with other Kages?” Utakata asks, dragging his fingers up Zabuza’s spread thighs, and those golden eyes don’t waver from Zabuza’s, intent and hot even if he sounds like he’s just making polite conversation.

Kakashi chuckles. “I meant access to your own personal harem,” he says lightly. “But that too.”

“Anything in the name of good diplomacy,” Utakata says, and a finger at his hole makes Zabuza moan, catching hold of Utakata’s shoulders to brace himself as Utakata tests how wet he is, how much lube is left in him from earlier. “Are you enjoying yourself? I heard you took Kisame and Zabuza back to your room with you last night.” Apparently not satisfied with how slick Zabuza is, he reaches away, and a moment later wet fingers are pressing even more lube into him, sliding it deep, slipping out, coming back with more.

“Zabuza seems to be a favorite,” Kakashi says, amused. His fingers skim Zabuza’s back, tracing the muscles, and Zabuza has to swallow, tips his head forward to hide his face. Utakata has long fingers, slim, just right to press up deep inside of him. Not long enough, though, not after a full night of teasing, and a whole round of poker spent knowing he’d lost, that he was going to end up with a cock inside him before the hour was up.

“He’s mouthy,” Utakata says, and when Zabuza makes a rough sound of protest he curls the fingers of his free hand around the back of Zabuza’s neck, presses another finger into him and drives all three deep. Zabuza chokes out a groan, rocks back into his hand automatically, and feels the light, fond kiss Utakata lays on his cheek. “It’s fun to make him stop talking.”

“Mei mentioned something about the fastest time making him incoherent. She seemed proud of herself.” Kakashi’s fingers drag over Zabuza’s spine, trace the muscle in his back.

“Mei's a fucking harpy,” Zabuza gets out, and moans when one of Utakata’s nails skims his prostate to send a wash of heat up his spine. “And you two are fucking _shitheads_ —”

“I don’t think that’s how you should talk to your Kage,” Utakata says, a silken warning in his voice as the fingers on Zabuza’s nape tighten.

Zabuza’s laughter is breathless, barely audible, but he still makes the attempt. “Or what?” he challenges.

In a movement that’s jinchuuriki-quick, edged with the effervescent, tingling _force_ of Saiken’s power, Utakata surges up, forward. Zabuza doesn’t even have time to yelp before he’s dumped on the bed, flat on his face, with Utakata’s weight across his back. “Or there will be consequences,” Utakata says mildly, and Zabuza fucking _hates_ him and Kakashi both, the bastards. Always so fucking _serene_ , like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths, like they're not assholes of the highest order. He twists, wrenches at Utakata’s grip on his arms, but even a lifetime of wielding Kubikiribōchō hasn’t made him strong enough to break a jinchuuriki’s grip. With a snarl, he slumps down into the mattress, breathing ragged in his throat, and closes his eyes.

Fingers frame his face, grip his chin, and Kakashi pulls his head up just enough to be sure Zabuza is looking at him. “What’s your word again?” he asks, but mismatched eyes are steady and intent on Zabuza’s face.

“Fuck you,” Zabuza spits. “I tell you to stop, you stop.”

“That’s the one,” Kakashi agrees cheerfully. “Or?”

“Pinch you twice,” Zabuza finishes, rolling his eyes. “You're not going to fucking break me, asshole.”

“But you broke so nicely last night,” Kakashi says, smiling. It crinkles his eyes, warm and almost soft, and Zabuza has to swallow. “Kisame got his hands on you and the ropes tied and you fell apart for him, didn’t you?”

Utakata hums in quiet appreciation. “Kisame is good with ropes,” he says, and one knee nudges at Zabuza’s thigh. “Legs together.”

 _Fuck_. Zabuza shudders, but presses his thighs together, and slick hands spread his cheeks. Utakata kisses the back of his neck, and the fact that he’s breathing a little bit harder than before is the only tell as to how effected he is, right up until he says, “Why don’t you give the Hokage a kiss?” and his voice rasps ever so slightly in his throat.

Without hesitation, Kakashi leans down, catches Zabuza’s mouth, and Zabuza kisses him deeply, leans up and into it and tangles their tongues, tastes the wine Kakashi was drinking and feels the edge of his sharp teeth, less jagged than his own but still sharp enough to draw blood when he bites down on Zabuza’s lip.

Breathless, amused, Kakashi pulls back, watching Zabuza with dark eyes, and Utakata laughs a little as he presses the head of his cock to Zabuza’s thoroughly slicked hole, holding there. “I think you have a favorite, Hokage,” he says.

“Mm.” Kakashi presses another quick kiss to Zabuza’s lips, and it’s teasing, light, but it still makes Zabuza shiver almost as much as the weight of Utakata on his back. “How many Swordsmen have to fall into your bed before it counts as a harem, Mizukage?”

Utakata laughs, pressing forward, and Zabuza groans as he’s breached, the familiar thick slide of Utakata’s cock invading him making his stomach flip. It’s heat and pressure and the edge of a burn as Utakata sinks deeper than fingers can reach, and with his legs pressed closed by Utakata’s knees bracketing him the stretch is sharper, harsher. He fists his hands in the sheets, tries not to hold his breath against the almost uncomfortable sense of vulnerability as he’s taken, split open and covered by Utakata’s weight. Breath on his spine, at his nape, a hand on his shoulder to hold him down, and the first moment is always the hardest but—

With a soft moan, Utakata bottoms out, slides all the way in and stops, pressing his forehead to the back of Zabuza’s neck. The hand planted in the sheets curls, white-knuckled, and the fabric tears like paper. It makes Zabuza shiver, thinking of that strength, of earlier today, when Utakata picked him up right off the ground and fucked him leaning back against the wall, bouncing Zabuza on his cock like all of Zabuza’s weight was nothing at all. He groans, clenching down on the thick shaft, and Utakata hisses, grabs his hip instead of his shoulder.

“Relax,” he orders, with a bite behind the word. The edge to his voice makes Zabuza twitch with some instinctive sense of danger— _jinchuuriki_ , his brain insists, _there’s a beast on your back with his mouth at your throat, you need to move_ —

But he’s a monster with a cock that’s perfectly shaped, heavy inside Zabuza and _hot_ , and Zabuza is wet with lube and achingly hard where his cock is being ground into the mattress, and with a strangled whine he goes limp under Utakata, shuddering. His muscles ease, and Utakata slips that one inch deeper that makes him gasp, eyes fluttering closed as he goes still.

“It took Kisame six ropes and half an hour to manage that,” Kakashi says, sounding impressed, and his fingers tangle in Zabuza’s short hair.

“Kisame isn't his Mizukage,” Utakata says, sweet and right against Zabuza’s ear. Kisses him there, on his shoulder, then on his spine, and strokes a hand over his ribs with a contented hum. Raises his head, and asks like he isn't buried balls-deep in Zabuza’s body, “Why do you ask? Are you thinking of staring your own harem?”

Kakashi chuckles. “Only if you’re willing to go halvsies on Zabuza,” he says, and the words are a joke, but the curl of his fingers against Zabuza’s scalp is something gentle and possessive. Zabuza woke up this morning with Kakashi curled around him, eyes half-lidded, _smiling,_ and the memory makes him want to reach out, touch, grip Kakashi’s thigh and pull him down into another kiss.

He doesn’t, though. Utakata’s hand is splayed across his side, a tangible weight, and he’s everything Zabuza has ever wanted in a Mizukage, in a partner. Zabuza will leave him when he’s dead or when he’s told to, and not a moment before; he swore an oath when they were children, scared and desperate, and it’s one he’ll never go back on.

“Shh,” Utakata breathes, like he can feel the conflict winding tight down Zabuza’s spine. “Shh, Zabuza, relax.” His fingers stroke down Zabuza’s side, carefully comforting, and Zabuza’s breath shudders out of him as he forces himself lax again. A hum, a kiss, light and soft against his shoulder, and Utakata rocks his hips without pulling out, makes sparks flash behind Zabuza’s eyes as Utakata grinds right into his prostate. He gasps, and Utakata does it again.

“Good,” he croons, and the word vibrates down Zabuza’s spine to lodge deep in his gut, like a blow but a thousand times sweeter. Then Utakata’s attention slides away from him, rises, and he tells Kakashi, “If I give up Zabuza to anyone else, Mangetsu and Kisame will cry. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

There's a light, thoughtful sound. “I don’t know,” Kakashi says, amused. “Kisame seemed pretty happy to have your full attention the other day.”

“Kisame likes to get fucked like he’s the only one in the bed.” Utakata steadies Zabuza’s hip with a hand, pulls back, but the angle is _sharp_. Zabuza loses a breath on a gasp, arches—

Utakata thrusts in _hard_ , and it feels like he pounds straight down in one brutal thrust that shatters into Zabuza’s every nerve, explodes up his spine with the force of an exploding tag. He shouts, grabs at the sheets, surges up, but Utakata pins him flat, locks his knees against the outsides of Zabuza’s thighs, and drives in again. Pulls back, does it again, and again, and again, and Zabuza howls, claws at the mattress but can't figure out if he wants to get away or get _more_. It aches, _burns_ , tears right through him until he can't breathe, vision swimming, each thrust driving so deep it hurts but that hurt sinks right into his cock and he’s going to _come_.

And then Utakata stops, hips pressed flush to Zabuza’s ass, cock practically throbbing in him, and says breathlessly, “Zabuza, you're being rude to the Hokage.”

Zabuza snarls, because _fuck_ the Hokage, all he wants is Utakata to keep moving, to keep pounding his ass. He shoves back, but the grip on his hipbone is jinchuuriki-strong, immovable. Utakata makes an unimpressed sound, leans in to nip lightly at the skin between his shoulder blades, and he doesn’t have a Swordsman’s filed teeth but it stings, sharp in a way that twists through Zabuza’s stomach like pleasure.

“Rude,” Utakata repeats, more roughly, like his composure is cracking right along with his voice. “Kakashi?”

Kakashi hums, drags his thumb over Zabuza’s lips, and Zabuza shudders, knowing where this is going. His mouth waters, and he _wants_. Pushing up on his elbows, he tips his head, and Kakashi obligingly rocks into him, lets Zabuza bury his face against Kakashi’s cock, mouthing at his balls. It makes him hiss, makes his grip go tight in Zabuza’s hair, and Zabuza would smile but Utakata hitches his hips at that moment, and the burst of pleasure is bruise-bright as it slams through Zabuza’s nerves and crashes up his spine. He gasps, open-mouthed, rocks back, and then the head of Kakashi’s cock is at his lips. Kakashi’s hand frames his face, the look in his eyes something on the edge of wild, and Zabuza opens his mouth, opens his throat, lets Kakashi sink in until Zabuza’s nose is pressed right into the curls of white hair at the base of his cock.

Pinned between Kakashi and Utakata, throat stretched wide, ass aching, Zabuza moans. It makes Kakashi groan, pull his head in tighter as he rocks forward, and his thumb presses against Zabuza’s cheek. He feels out the outline of his own cock, and Zabuza swallows around him, carefully draws back. He only gets halfway up before Kakashi is hauling him back down, thrusting in, and Zabuza only just manages not to gag, takes it—

Utakata lets out a ragged breath against his shoulder, pulls out, drives in, and keeps going. He fucks Zabuza hard, fiercely, chasing his own pleasure in a way that just winds the heated tension crawling through Zabuza’s bones tighter. He can't get any control, has to let Kakashi haul him forward and Utakata drag him back, split open by their cocks. There are high, breathy sounds in the air, choked, continuous, but Zabuza only vaguely realizes they're from his throat. Kakashi is holding his hair, his cheek, and Zabuza can't even swallow around him. He’s drooling, eager, and every time Utakata pulls out, every time Kakashi draws away, he tries to follow, tries to take their cocks, wants with a greedy desperation.

“Fuck,” Kakashi says, wild, and he drags Zabuza down his shaft again, curls over him, and Zabuza can feel the spill, moans high and sharp, but Kakashi doesn’t let him go. Holds him there, hard cock on his tongue, and asks Utakata hoarsely, with an edge of breathless laughter, “How is he?”

Utakata moans, hips stuttering. Doesn’t answer, but his fingers are like steel as he grips Zabuza’s waist, slams into him and draws out and shoves back in. His rhythm is gone; this is sloppy, chasing the pleasure, and Zabuza loves this, loves the ache carved deep into his body, the greedy grip of Utakata’s fingers.

“Rings,” he grasps out barely a word, and Zabuza wants to turn to see him to watch his beautiful, composed Mizukage fall to pieces because he’s _inside Zabuza_ , but Kakashi’s hand is in his hair, holding him on his softening cock, and he tugs Zabuza’s head in with a clear signal not to move even as he lets go. His hands slide down Zabuza’s chest, catch the nipple rings and _twist_ , and Zabuza yowls. He jerks, only just manages to keep Kakashi’s cock in his mouth, and clenches down on Utakata’s shaft so hard it almost hurts. There’s a cry, a hard thrust as Utakata slams all the way into him, and it _burns_. Another tug at the rings, a thrust down his throat, and Zabuza whines, high and sharp. Utakata grinds him into the mattress, hunches over his back with a cry, and comes in a flood. So much, always, and Zabuza moans. One aspect of Utakata being Saiken’s jinchuuriki that Zabuza _really_ enjoys, and he shifts, rolls his hips back to feel the sloppy-wet slide of Utakata’s cock in him.

There's a breathless laugh, quiet against his skin, and Utakata strokes his hips. “You really are my favorite,” he tells Zabuza, then glances up at Kakashi. “You’ve had his mouth for long enough. My turn.”

“Ready to go again already?” Kakashi asks, but he strokes Zabuza’s hair, then carefully pulls out, and Zabuza coughs as his throat is finally free, sucks in a harsh breath. Turns his head, and long fingers catch his chin, pull him around until Utakata can catch his mouth in a slow, deep kiss that melts tension out of every muscle that might still have it. Zabuza groans, nips at Utakata’s lip as he pulls back, and Utakata hums.

He kisses the corner of Zabuza’s mouth, his cheek, his throat, then squeezes gently at Zabuza’s hips and warns, “I'm pulling out.”

Zabuza always appreciates the warning. It takes a moment to brace himself for the withdrawal, the empty ache that fills him, the thick wetness that spills down his thighs. Utakata’s hands are gentle on him, ease him up and over and then back down, rolling him onto his back. His cock bobs between his thighs, painfully hard, but Utakata wraps a hand around him without pause, strokes him tight and slow and steady. Zabuza arches up into it, cries out rough and ruined, and there's a low curse.

Kakashi leans down, kisses him hard, and his fingers tangle with Utakata’s on Zabuza’s shaft. His other hand goes to Zabuza’s nipples, sore and tight, and Zabuza groans when he twists at them, squirms but doesn’t want to get away. Sharp bursts of ache, not quite enough to call them outright pain, and it’s addicting in a way he can't understand, makes him arch into the touch even as he twists to get away. Kakashi doesn’t pause, kisses him again, deeper, harder, hooks his finger through a ring and _tugs_ just as Utakata’s thumb digs in under the head of his cock. Zabuza shouts against Kakashi’s mouth, feels his orgasm hit him like a wave that crashes from his gut to his head. He shudders, jerks, grabs for an anchor—

Utakata catches one hand, and Kakashi grabs the other, and they hold him in place as he rides out his release, breathless, stunned, aching. As he comes down, shaking with it, with the used sort of ache in his throat and his body, gentle hands shift him, pull him up against a warm body that curls around him. Another presses against his front, sandwiching him between them, and Zabuza groans, pulls them in, desperately grateful for the solidity. They hold him between them, and Utakata kisses him, Kakashi strokes the tremors from his muscles.

“So good,” Utakata says, and he sounds tired, winded, already slipping into sleep, but he strokes Zabuza’s cheek, kisses him again. Against Zabuza’s back, Kakashi presses closer, curls around Zabuza as best he can when Zabuza has almost a head on him in height.

“Very good,” he agrees, burying his nose in Zabuza’s nape. “I definitely want halvsies.”

Clumsily, muscles not quite cooperating, Zabuza finds Kakashi’s hand again, squeezes his fingers. “Fucker,” he rasps, and means _I want that too._

Judging by the way Kakashi smiles against his skin, he understands anyway.


End file.
